


fake dating, real feelings

by maybeaslytherin



Series: classic tropes [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, ok i love tormund but he had to be the problem for this fic to work the way i had it planned, trope time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeaslytherin/pseuds/maybeaslytherin
Summary: fake dating trope. modern AU. need I say more?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: classic tropes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519427
Comments: 20
Kudos: 102





	fake dating, real feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, another classic trope! PSA I love Tormund but he had to be the reason for Jaime to swoop in and pretend to be Brienne's boyfriend. I hope you enjoy!!

Parties were never much of Brienne’s scene. She would much rather be anywhere else, though preferably at home her roommate watching sitcom reruns until midnight, both of them adding in their own commentary and pointing out the inconsistencies over the episodes. But here she was, at Sansa’s holiday party, and Jaime was nowhere to be found. 

Usually he would stick by her throughout the night, knowing how she felt about parties, but2 tonight it seemed he had better options. Brienne wondered if he was with Margaery; she saw the beautiful Tyrell smile and wave at him when he arrived at the party with Brienne. Clearly, like most, she didn’t presume that Jaime was actually with Brienne. Brienne tried to shake off the sting, knowing that those initial reactions were correct, that she and Jaime would never belong together. She looked around the room for someone to talk to, trying to ignore the fact that she was hopelessly in love with her roommate. 

She caught sight of Sansa as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, carrying a tray of empty glasses. Brienne started in that direction; if Sansa would let her help clean up, she might not have to make much small talk for the rest of the night. Right before she could turn out of the living room, however, a body blocked her way. 

“Oh, sorry, excuse me,” Brienne muttered, her eyes still downcast, focused on her destination. But the figure didn’t budge. She looked up to see a red-headed man with a shaggy red beard eyeing her with a grin. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, his voice thick with an accent. 

“Yes, um, if you’ll excuse me,” Brienne repeated. 

The man stuck his hand out. “Tormund Giantsbane.” 

Brienne stared at his hand for a moment, debating, then cautiously stuck her hand out, “Brienne Tarth.” She intended to make it a very short handshake, but Tormund kept ahold of her hand, pulling her slightly closer to him. The position was far more intimate than she was comfortable with, even with her friends, roommate excluded. 

“I must say… you’re quite breathtaking,” Tormund leaned in closer, whispering in what she presumed to be a seductive tone, “I like a big woman.” 

Brienne pulled her hand back and reeled backward, “I’ve got to go.” She bumped into someone as she was moving backwards and she started to tip sideways. With her general clumsiness, she knew she was going to fall over, but two pairs of arms reached out to brace her fall; one pair from Tormund, and the other circled around her waist from behind. 

The arms that held her at her waist felt secure, gentle, and somewhat familiar, though she was already out of them by the time she could have placed who it was. Tormund, it seemed, was keen on catching her, though, and she was hoisted to her feet, though she was, in fact, still standing, and tumbled forward into his chest. 

“You alright, there?” He murmured into her ear. They were at the same height, and she could feel his breath tickle her ear. She stepped back, nodding, though his hands were firm on her forearms and she didn’t get very far. 

“I’m fine,” she said, then added reluctantly, “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” Tormund said, grinning. “How would you like to get a drink?” 

“Uh, I don’t think-,” Brienne stuttered, unsure how to reject someone; she never got asked out in the first place. But she knew she felt entirely too uncomfortable to say yes. 

The familiar hand returned, this time around her shoulder. “Sorry, pal, I don’t think my girlfriend’s interested.” Jaime’s voice answered smoothly. Brienne turned to see Jaime glaring at Tormund. She wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but it didn’t help that most of her attention was being directed towards Jaime’s hand rubbing circles into her shoulder. 

Tormund sighed, “My apologies, mate.” He seemed intimidated by Jaime, and Brienne knew he must have been using one of his patented Lannister stares. They worked on pretty much everyone, except for Brienne- he eventually learned that it wouldn’t get him out of doing the dishes. Brienne couldn’t help but grin. 

Tormund looked at Brienne again, stepping backwards, his hands extracted from her arms. He couldn’t help but say in parting, “I hope we meet again some day.” 

Under her breath, Brienne muttered, “I really hope we don’t.”

As Tormund turned and left, Brienne turned towards Jaime, who still hadn’t moved his arm, “Thank you for that.” 

Jaime batted his other hand, “No worries, I would have been here sooner but Robb and I were talking fencing.” Oh, of course he would have been talking with Robb; this was probably the first time he had seen him since Robb got back from the championships, which Jaime would have been at, too, had he not injured his sword hand last season. 

“No problem,” Brienne answered, “How is Robb doing?” 

“He’s good,” Jaime removed his arm from around Brienne’s shoulder, but immediately took her hand in his, dragging her over to a free spot on the couch to sit down. Once there, he returned his arm around her, “He and Margaery started seeing each other about a month ago.” 

Huh, Brienne thought. She couldn’t help feeling a bit of relief at that, though she tried to ignore it. “That’s nice,” she responded. Then, she decided to address his arm, though she hoped he wouldn’t move it, “As much as I appreciate you helping me out with that Wildling man, why do you still have your arm around me?” 

Jaime nodded to one side of the room and Brienne turned to see Tormund, who would glance over at them every few seconds, a sad expression on his face. “Looks like I’m yours for the night, Tarth.” Jaime whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“You really don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’d rather spend the night with Robb, or someone else you don't spend basically all of your time with.”

Jaime rolled his eyes, “Now that Robb’s back, I can see him more often. And I want to be here, with you. C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

And so, Jaime stayed by Brienne’s side for the rest of the night. He seemed to like making her blush, whether it was playing with her hair, or whispering something in her ear regardless of how stupid it was, whether a random fact or a dumb joke. Brienne smacked him each time he did that. Once, she decided to get revenge on him, tucking his hair behind his ear to lean in close to whisper in his ear, “You’re an idiot, Lannister.” She grinned at him and he only held her tighter after that. 

When a song they both liked came on the speakers, Jaime stood up and extended his hand to her, leading Brienne to a free corner of the room where they could dance. Brienne rolled her eyes but followed his lead. It was different than when they’d dance in their apartment. Usually that took place when Brienne insisted they clean the whole place, and they’d crank up the music, singing along and bouncing around. They never really got much done on those days. But now, they were close together, Brienne’s hands around Jaime’s neck, his hands on her hips, as they swayed gently to the mellow song. Brienne saw Sansa make a face at them, giving Brienne a questioning, but very approving look. She dreaded having to explain it later. 

But she didn’t have to that night. Brienne and Jaime ended up leaving a few hours later, just after midnight, though the party was still in full swing. The two had walked to Sansa’s, since they only lived a few blocks over. The air was cold outside as they walked home, and so Jaime kept Brienne’s hand in his. At least, that’s what she figured; why else would he hold onto her after they were out of Tormund’s sight? 

They reached their apartment, and just as Brienne was about to open the door, Jaime stopped her. “I had a really nice time tonight.” 

“Me too,” Brienne answered truthfully. “Thanks again, I’m sure that’s not exactly how you wanted to spend your night, but I appreciate it.” 

“That’s exactly how I wanted to spend my night,” Jaime countered almost immediately, his expression suddenly very serious.

“What?” Brienne asked, her eyes widening. 

Jaime opened his mouth, then closed it again. She could see him searching his mind for the right words. “I liked tonight, spending it with you, holding you, dancing with you. I just-“ 

“You just?” Brienne asked, subconsciously taking a step towards him. 

“I just wish it wasn’t fake,” Jaime finished, green eyes locked with blue. 

Brienne was barely able to whisper out, “Me too.” 

As if unable to believe her, though really it was Brienne that couldn’t believe her luck, Jaime’s eyebrows lifted, his mouth forming a small ‘o’, before turning to a grin. “Well maybe we can fix that.” 

Brienne smiled, and allowed herself to reach out and stroke his cheek with her thumb, her hand reaching around to twist into his hair, the way she always had wanted to while they sat on the couch watching sitcoms together. 

Without breaking their gaze, Brienne fiddled with her keys, and inserted the right one into the lock, opening the door. Somehow, they stumbled into the apartment and made their way to the couch still in the dark, lips already pressed together.


End file.
